Suggested Rating: for all readers

Category:  Daniel/Janet friendship

Setting:  Season 1, missing scenes for The Broca Divide

Synopsis:  Doctor Frasier is settling in to her new role as CMO, and learning a little bit about some of her patients.

 

Author’s Comments:  Part 1 in The Journey series.  Many thanks to Sonia for being my faithful beta reader and editor.

 

DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters and places (the Stargate SG-1 stuff) are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions.  This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment only and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended.  Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

 

 

 

TRIALS AND IMPRESSIONS

 

- by Michelle Lunsford (January 2005)

 

 

 

“Can we help you, Doctor Jackson?”

 

Janet Frasier immediately heard the sound of Nurse Taylor’s precise voice, but it was several seconds before the significance of the inquiry registered in her mind.

 

Doctor Jackson…?  SG-1 brought him back…?  He’s alive!

 

Janet glanced up, the latest medical record she’d been studying completely forgotten.  Sure enough the fourth member of the SGC’s flagship team was standing in the infirmary doorway, alive and well.

 

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she took a closer look.  Okay, maybe the ‘well’ part is a bit too optimistic.

 

His clothes were ripped in several places.  They were also rather filthy.  He looked exhausted and not much cleaner than his uniform.  And his hair… well, before now Janet wouldn’t have thought it possible for hair of that length to stand up in so many directions.

 

“Um, General Hammond wanted me to report here,” the young man replied.  His expression was apologetic, almost sheepish, as he met the nurse’s gaze.  “Said I should get checked out.”

 

Janet moved towards one of the empty beds.  “Right this way, Doctor Jackson,” she called, waving him over.

 

She watched him closely as he crossed the room.  No immediate signs of injury, she noted, and nothing about his gait indicated anything.  He hopped up onto the bed with ease.  But when he moved to slip out of his jacket, his distinct wince clearly told her something was amiss.

 

She took a step closer and pulled a stethoscope from her lab coat pocket.  “Want to tell me what happened?”

 

“I, uh…”  He hesitated, then finally acquiesced, “I became infected, like one of the Touched.”

 

Janet nodded and placed her stethoscope over his heart.  “Obviously SG-1 was able to administer the antidote.  Take a deep breath, please.”  She paused, listening.  “Did you sustain any injuries while you were infected?  Are you having any pain?”

 

“My left side hurts a little,” he confessed, “and I think I’ve got some scratches on my arms and legs.  Nothing serious though.”

 

Heart rate normal, breathing just a little shallow, she made mental notations as she draped the stethoscope around her neck.  Her fingers began an expert examination along his left side.  A light pressure just above his last rib resulted in a sharp intake of breath.

 

Janet eyed him curiously but he offered no further information.  Fighting against a frown – she hated it when her patients took the stubborn route – she leaned forward and carefully pulled up the edge of his shirt for a closer look.  The dark purplish marks spread nearly the length of his entire rib cage.

 

This time her expression was pure doctoral reprimand.  “Nothing serious?  Doctor Jackson, it looks like someone took a baseball bat to your ribs.”  She could tell her voice had taken on a harsh edge, but after everything that had happened over the past several hours she simply didn’t have the energy to fight against it.  “Maybe you better tell me again what happened, and don’t skip the details this time.”

 

He stared at her, clearly taken aback by her abrupt demeanor.  Then his mouth settled into a hard thin line.

 

“Fine,” he replied, his own tone just as terse as hers had been.  “Teal’c and I went to P3X-797, as instructed, to collect your blood samples.  Shortly after arriving on the dark side of the planet we found Melosha, on the ground, unconscious but alive.  I stopped to help her, because I didn’t think we should just leave her there.  We were attacked by the Touched.  Teal’c attempted to scare them away by firing his gun, but before I could do the same I was tackled and dragged off.  They took me and Melosha to one of their camping areas.”  He paused, barely taking a breath, waving his hands at his clothing as he plowed on, “They practically strip searched me, did a bit of pawing and manhandling as some show of dominant male authority, and then deposited me by the fire.  I stayed low, and when I thought I could sneak away, tried to do so.  But one of them saw me and then, yes, there ensued a good bit of clubbing and kicking to my ribcage.  I passed out then, and by the time I woke I must have already been under the influence of the infection.  It’s all a bit fuzzy after that, so I hope you don’t need any further details, Doctor.”

 

Janet held his gaze, not the least bit intimidated.  It wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with an irate patient.  Fatigue and her own strong-willed nature were making it difficult not to give in to the urge to fight back, but she knew that would only make the situation worse.  Taking a deep breath, she forced her voice to be calm and even.

 

“I’d like to have a chest X-ray done, to see the extent of the damage.  Then you can take a shower, get cleaned up, and report back here.”

 

Not even waiting for a response, Janet turned and walked away.

 

 

^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *  

 

“Doctor?”

 

What now? Janet thought.  It seemed she’d only just sat down at her desk to begin work on the draft of her preliminary report.  Looking up she saw Nurse Taylor in the doorway.  The woman appeared just as tired as Janet felt, but at least her expression displayed some signs of contrition for her interruption.

 

“Yes, what is it?” Janet managed to reply without sounding too perturbed.

 

“Doctor Jackson’s X-rays,” Taylor answered, handing the file across her desk.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Janet stood, placed the X-rays on the rack and switched on the light.  Immediately she saw that three of the ribs on his left side had sustained minor fractures, but that appeared to be the extent of the damage. She studied the results closely, making sure not to miss anything.  Satisfied, she turned off the light.

 

Three cracked ribs, she silently considered.  He had to have been in a lot more pain than he was letting on.

 

A renewed sensation of weariness settled over her.  With a heavy sigh she slumped back into her chair, closing her eyes and running a hand across her face.

 

It had been a long day.  Or has it been two days?  She wasn’t sure any more.  What she did know was that this had proven to be her first major trial in this new job, and while – fortunately – she’d come through alright, it had taken just about everything she had.

 

Janet had suspected that accepting the position of Chief Medical Officer at the SGC would be unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her career before.  She’d even been secretly thrilled by the notion of the challenge.  But nothing had been able to fully prepare her for the truth.

 

She’d spent the first week reading files and being briefed about the nature of what went on at the mysterious mountain.  The next couple weeks were spent familiarizing herself with protocol and layout of the base, her staff, and some of the SGC personnel.  She’d begun meeting her patients through routine checkups and examinations.  Then, just this week, she’d stepped up and taken full control in her new role.  Little did she know that a mission by one of the SG teams would result in practically everyone going primitive, and her being expected to find the solution.

 

Yes, she’d managed to solve the problem, and thankfully things around base were returning to normal.  But she was exhausted.  Reason told her she should have taken a rest.  Technically, her shift had ended, and things were sufficiently under control that the staff could manage for a few hours without her.  Still, Janet had always taken her work seriously.  She didn’t like to leave things unfinished.  So she’d kept pushing herself, kept going, knowing she wouldn’t feel completely at ease until SG-1 returned and she received word that the people of P3X-797 had responded positively to the antidote.

 

Yet when SG-1 finally does return, you end up biting the head off one of its members, she mentally berated herself.  And if there was anything she hated more than leaving something in her work unfinished, it was allowing her mood to influence how she dealt with her patients.

 

A light rapping at the door interrupted the negative turn of her musings.

 

Janet glanced up and attempted to connect a name with the face of the male nurse currently standing in the doorway.  When nothing came to mind she finally rose, stepping closer so she could read his name tag.

 

“Yes, Anderson, what can I do for you?”

 

“Doctor Jackson has returned to the infirmary,” Anderson replied.

 

She nodded, fighting against the weariness that continued to pull at her.  “Thank you.  I’ll be right there.”

 

He was sitting on the same bed as before, somewhat aloof, staring ahead at some nonspecific point along the wall.  When he noticed her approach, Janet could have sworn his shoulders sagged just a little and he surreptitiously avoided her gaze.

 

She took a slow, steadying breath, intent on making her apology first thing and then maintaining a more positive bedside manner than she’d displayed previously.  “Doctor Jackson,” she began, purposefully making her voice friendly.

 

He held up a hand, cutting her off.  “Before you begin, there’s something I have to say.”

 

Janet blinked.  His tone had been steady, his expression unrevealing.  She realized she didn’t have the slightest idea where this was headed.

 

“Okay…” she replied hesitantly.

 

In the fraction of a heartbeat his entire comportment changed.  His expression softened, disclosing an unmistakable look of repentance.  He unwaveringly met her eyes and she suddenly found herself rooted to the spot where she stood, surprised by the sheer compelling nature of that clear blue stare.

 

“I’m sorry.”  His voice was gentle and sincere.  He gave a tiny shrug before continuing, “I don’t know why I went off on you like that before.  I guess I was just tired, and a little taken off guard by your… style of questioning.  Besides that, my side hurt like hell.  And, as long as I’m telling all, I’ll just go ahead and admit that I’m not exactly very comfortable around medical doctors.”  The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth with this confession, but he quickly grew serious again.  “Still, none of that is an excuse for my behavior.  I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

 

Perhaps it was her current state of mind, tired and frazzled from working straight for who knew how many hours.  Or maybe it was the fact that she just didn’t know this man all that well.  But something about his earnest concession touched her deeply.

 

Rather unexpectedly, Janet found herself struggling to get her bearings.  “Um, thank you,” she finally managed.  “And yes, of course I accept your apology.”


He sighed, visibly relieved.  “Thank you.”

 

Feeling herself back in control again, Janet pressed on.  “Although, I was actually going to apologize to you.”  She couldn’t help but smile at his look of befuddlement before going on to explain, “my behavior before, that’s not actually my normal style of questioning.  In fact, I was totally in the wrong, allowing my own fatigue to color my manner towards you.  I’m sorry.”

 

He nodded slowly, and she could practically see the wheels churning in his head as he processed this new information.  “Then I accept your apology.  Now we’re even.”

 

“Fair enough,” she agreed.  “Now, what do you say we try this again?”

 

“Deal.”

 

Glad all that was out of the way, Janet proceeded to explain his X-ray results.  “I can give you a rib belt, and something for the pain.  But for the most part, it’s just a matter of giving the ribs time to heal.”

 

He peered at her over the rims of his glasses as one eyebrow went up inquisitively.  “A rib belt?”

 

“It’s a strap of elastic and Velcro you can adjust around your chest.  It helps alleviate the pain.”

 

“Ah.”  The eyebrow went up again, but this time the expression was decidedly more mischievous.  “Sounds like fun.  I’ll take one.”

 

Janet found herself smiling again.  This Doctor Jackson definitely has a… playful side.  She called to one of the nurses, giving instructions for a rib belt and medication to be brought.

 

“I take it the natives of P3X-797 responded well to the antidote?” she asked into the ensuing silence.

 

“Yeah,” he replied.  “We showed Tupelo and the other leaders how to administer it.  Most of their people who had become the Touched were already recovering by the time we left.  Sam said something about our scientists needing to return so they could study the plants and the food on the planet, in order to determine what it is that produces the antihistamines naturally, so they can learn to stay immune to the infection.”

 

Janet couldn’t help but notice that he became more animated as he talked.  She vaguely recalled reading something in the basic info of his medical file about his skills and interests being in anthropology as well as archaeology and linguistics.  Clearly, working with indigenous peoples on other planets was an aspect of his job that he greatly enjoyed.

 

Casually crossing her arms across her chest Janet said, “I imagine they must have been grateful for your assistance.”

 

“Very grateful – almost too grateful,” he acknowledged, a hint of color rising in his cheeks.  “They kept going on and on about us being such beneficial gods, despite all our attempts to explain otherwise.  It was getting to be rather embarrassing.”

 

Janet couldn’t quite hide her grin at the mental image his description had conjured.

 

“Speaking of being grateful,” he suddenly interposed, catching her gaze, “I understand we have you to thank for figuring out the infection was histamine based, and developing the antidote.  Good job!”

 

Never one entirely comfortable with open praise, she donned a somewhat sheepish expression and waved her hand in an attempt to downplay the entire scenario.  “I had lots of help, not the least of which was from yourself and Mr. Teal’c, going for those blood samples I needed.”

 

Janet was grateful the nurse arrived then, providing further opportunity to turn the conversation away from her role in recent events.  “Here, let me show you how to position this rib belt,” she said after he’d taken the pain medication.

 

She finished tightening the belt around his chest, pulled his shirt down over the elastic fabric, and asked, “How’s that - can you still breathe normally?”

 

“Yeah,” he responded, taking a deep breath.  He let it out slowly.  “Hey, that actually does ease the pain a bit.”

 

“You can wear it almost continuously for up to four days,” she instructed, “but you should try to do without it as comfort allows after that.  I want to you stop by for a check up within twenty-four hours, and then again within forty-eight.  And be sure and let me know if the pain worsens in any way, or if you develop any difficulty breathing.”

 

“Alright,” he said, easing down from the bed.  “Anything else?”

 

Janet shook her head.  “Just take it easy, try not to overdo.  Your fractures aren’t terribly severe, but broken ribs can become a serious problem if you aggravate the injury.”

 

He nodded in understanding and, thinking her job finished, Janet turned to go.  But she was stopped by a light touch on her sleeve.  She looked back to find Doctor Jackson gazing at her.  Although he seemed a little unsure, that inexplicably compelling expression was reflected in blue eyes again.

 

“Thank you.”  He waved a hand at his chest.  “For this, for working so hard to find an antidote, and for being the first doctor who… who actually managed not to make me feel totally uncomfortable.”

 

She stood there for a couple of seconds, uncertain how to respond.  “You’re welcome,” she finally managed.

 

“And you really don’t have to call him Mister.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Teal’c,” he clarified.  “You don’t have to call him Mister.  I mean, I understand you’re doing so out of respect and professionalism, but the Jaffa really don’t have formal titles – at least not in the same sense we do.  So he won’t be the least bit offended if you just call him Teal’c.”

 

“I see,” Janet replied, although she wasn’t entirely positive that she did.

 

“And besides…”  His expression became somewhat abashed as he went on, “It does sound rather ridiculous.”

 

Coming from someone else, Janet might have taken offense at the comment.  But she instinctively knew he hadn’t meant it that way.  A light smile lit her face as she admitted, “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

 

“And if Jack ever heard you say Mr. Teal’c…”  An impish half-smile was all he offered, leaving the comment hanging in the air between them.

 

Janet momentarily wondered what he was thinking.  She’d already decided that Colonel O’Neill was definitely going to be one of her patients that required what she called unique attention, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t manage.  And besides, in this recent ordeal the colonel had also proven himself a man of excellence and integrity.  Janet just knew she was going to enjoy serving with him.

 

Looking at the man standing in front of her, she couldn’t help but think that premonition was going to hold true for all the members of SG-1.

 

As the silence lingered, Janet suddenly felt a little playfulness of her own.  Deciding to take the bait, she carefully crossed her arms, shifted into what she knew was her best no-nonsense stance, and said, “If Colonel O’Neill ever heard me say that, he’d what…?”

 

She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t the roguish grin that momentarily flitted across his features.

 

“Doesn’t matter.  I just got the distinct impression that you’re more than capable of handling Jack.”

 

Without another word, he turned and casually sauntered out of the infirmary.  And Janet suddenly realized that, oddly enough, she’d found his final, almost back-handed compliment way more affecting than any of the more obvious commendations he’d offered.

 

Interesting, she reflected, shaking her head bemusedly as she headed back to her office.  She had to admit there simply wasn’t any more apt description for her encounters with this man.

 

She’d gotten an inkling of that from the moment they first met.  Although he’d been fairly reserved towards her when SG-1 had come in for their pre-mission checkup a few days ago, Janet had noticed the way he interacted with the other members of the team.  She’d sensed there was a special camaraderie there, born from exceptional people and exceptional circumstances.  And then when she’d been talking with General Hammond, shortly after Doctor Jackson had been attacked by Colonel O’Neill, she’d gotten a similar impression – particularly when he’d looked her right in the eye and responded to one of her queries with you’re the doctor, Doctor.

 

Settling in at her desk, Janet felt a smile pull at her mouth.  Yes, there’s definitely something interesting about that Doctor Jackson – about that whole team, actually…  I think I’m going to be really glad I took this position here.

 

Janet allowed her mind to wander for a few additional seconds, then turning her focus toward work once more, she reached for her keyboard and began her preliminary report.

 

 

~ FINIS ~

 

 

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